


A road to remember

by Antika



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gendrya - Freeform, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-02-09 18:33:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1993407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antika/pseuds/Antika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gendry makes his first visit to Winterfell, now being restored by Bran Stark and Sansa Stark, where he unexpectedly meets Arya Stark after seven years since their time together on the road.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Winterfell

**Author's Note:**

> (Seven years after season 4 or, if you're reading the books, AFfC.)

_Gendry_

  
The days had grown longer and the people calmer with the new reign. The brotherhood had soon become scarcer, some searching for a better, quiet life now that the terror on the roads subsided and they no longer had to face a fight around every corner. Some remained thirsty for blood and followed Lady Stoneheart, their hearts set on revenge. And some remained, unsure of what to do. But they all agreed, when Brandon Stark was named Warden of the North, that they would rather pledge their servitude to him than hunt for revenge to no gain, not with so many already gone. Settling down had become a dream for a lot of them recently.  
  
That was the reason why their small group now appeared at the gates of Winterwell. Although Gendry had fought with these men for sometime, their legs had never led them to the place Arya had spoken so much about. This cold place that she had held so dear. A pang of sadness run through him as his mind painted her face as well as he could remember, but it was her words he remembered. Her words and her determination. The things that had led him to wish to become more than a mere blacksmith. It was also her sudden disappearance that had made him turn into a an even sourer person than he'd been before. That night... They had screamed and screamed her name. He himself hadn't stopped until he'd lost his voice and, thinking about her now, he realized he never had stopped searching, not truly.  
  
During the years that followed he had found other things to help occupy his mind. After she’d run away, he had still done his best to get by. After the long search that night, he’d woken up the day after and asked of others to train him, even while remaining a smith he wanted to be stronger, reasoning that if he’d been stronger before he would've found her, he could've protected her.  
  
Now that her memory returned to his mind he found himself thinking about the lady knight, Brienne, that he’d met long ago. He had thought if Arya would've ended up like her, had she chosen to live as she wanted. But then he’d known that Arya would have been different, shaped after her strengths. Slim, fast and deadly. Most of all, deadly and unwavering. He painted that Arya in his mind as he admired the great walls surrounding the winter castle, its ruins now mostly rebuilt to their former glory.  
  
Lem exchanged words with the knights set by the entrance of Winterfell and they were waved forth, their small group relieved that they’d be out of the cold at last and Gendry's sour face returned to him, he had reached the conclusion that if Arya were there they would've heard the news. It made him feel empty, walking into the one thing she’d so furiously held on to during their travels seven years ago and knowing that she probably never saw it again after she ran away.  
  
  
                          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  
  
  
_Bran_  
  
His sister had been back for barely a day and the castle buzzed with life as everyone paid their respects to Arya. It was unexpected and her face showed no happiness or sadness at being back home. Sansa showed emotion for the both of them, as she cried openly and laughed between sobs and reached for Arya's hand and held it softly, maybe thinking that she'd wake up from this dream soon. Bran had noticed, as surely Sansa had, that Arya didn't respond to any of the touches and her movements were mechanical. Something in the fiery and energetic sister he once knew had changed and he pondered if it were the things she must've gone through or the fact that she no longer was a child. Maybe a combination of both.  
  
She'd been scrubbed raw and clothed in one of Sansa's gowns, a light blue one that complimented her grey eyes. He had stifled a giggle when he'd seen her red-faced; clearly the result of Sansa's handmaiden's fight against the dirt. But the laughter that had bubbled in him had died away quickly as he took in his sister's grim face and realized the truth: every death of the family had taken away a bit of her. Even with Sansa’s never-ending fretting around her since she’d been back, Arya’s eyes remained empty and her commentary on a need-to-know basis. Whenever anyone dared ask where she’d been, she ignored the question and walked away.  
  
Bran could imagine that Arya needed to work through things. He had to do that himself when he’d returned and found that Sansa had began to build an army, which she quickly handed over glad that she needn't stay in the role of a leader now with him back. When word had gotten around, there were more people adding to their cause and of all those people, Osha came to him bringing his little brother with her. Yet the name Arya Stark was used less frequently to the point where the three remaining Starks had lost faith in ever seeing their sister again. When the new queen had appeared, the three Starks had been in accordance that they wouldn't shed any more blood if it could be avoided, especially with Bran knowing there were more important wars to fight…  
  
But that was years ago. Now, with the last few years bringing Westeros almost to a state of peace, they had concentrated on rebuilding Winterfell and rebuilding their lives. With everyone gathered, Bran couldn't help but keep his gaze on his sister and wonder if she could rebuild hers or if she would live trapped in the past for eternity, damaged beyond repair.  
  
To his surprise, Arya wasn't the only guest to wander by.  
  
  
  
                          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  
  
  
_Arya_  
  
The people never ceased to talk to her. As soon as one was finished, forth came the next and, to her dismay, a lot of them were suitors. They spoke of her beauty and bravery, leaving her aghast. She’d been home for less than a day and already they wanted to propose marriage. It was ridiculous. She wanted to get away, go to the Godswood and find some kind of peace, some familiarity. But for now she remained because of her sister, who wouldn't let her out of sight for the slightest moment. She understood the need, logically, yet at the same time the longer she was suffocated with the unwanted tailing the more she ached for the anonymity her life had held the past seven years.  
  
Her face remained a mask as she sat uncomfortably in her sisters gown and stared at the people that had come to the great hall to see her for themselves. People that she had learned had chosen to follow Sansa and her brothers, people that her sister had described as “loyal”. She couldn't help questioning that.  
  
Arya couldn't really trust anyone, not anymore and even within her own family she felt a stranger. It made her question her decision to come back, as well. Had she made the right choice, truly? What was left of the name Stark in her remained hidden below the steps to the temple in Braavos and, although she didn't lack of identities to choose from while she sat in the great hall of Winterfell, none truly fit the role she had come to receive upon her arrival. She wasn't a princess, she wasn't a lady and she wasn't a Stark. Yet something still had called her back and as she looked upon her brothers and Sansa she wondered if she’d find it. Or if she would have to leave again to become Beth, Cat, Salty or Nan…  
  
Visitors arrived once everyone in the Hall had finished the dinner Sansa had arranged and Arya, sitting to her Brothers left side, glanced toward the men coming through the door. There she spotted a face she hadn't even dreamed of seeing ever again. His blue eyes stared grumpily at Bran while Lem spoke for them, none of them recognizing her apparently. Even when he glanced at her, his face showed no recognition whatsoever. Then all of them knelt and before Bran could speak, Arya stood up and marched over. The hall grew silent and he stared at the floor, not even taking notice of her moving towards him. When she came to a halt right in front of him, he finally looked up.  
  
  
  
                          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  
  
  
_Gendry_  
  
The blow came from his left side and made him lose his balance, surprising him greatly. He hadn't recognized her when she sat beside her brother nor when she’d stepped in front of him but now, as he steadied himself on his side and stared at her, he did. And an avalanche of feelings rushed through him as Lady Stark shrieked her name.  
  
Everyone around them froze and for a second it felt almost as if time itself had come to a stop. He couldn't quit staring, trying to convince himself that a ghost wouldn't have been able to backhand him across the face. But there she stood, staring coldly at him with her hand pressed to her side and most surprisingly, her eyes glistening as if holding back tears. Even if he’d try to find the right words, he doubted anything would come out; he was dumbfounded. This person's hair wasn't short and dirty, but had grown and fell heavily on her back, dark and framing a face that held the eyes of the girl he remembered. Gray eyes that trapped his. No, of course he hadn't recognized her. How could he? She was changed, looking older than her years.   
"M'lady!" He finally blurted and tried to get up.  
Arya astonished everyone again by lifting her leg and kicking him down and that broke the weird spell that had stilled the inhabitants of Winterfell.  
  
Lady Sansa was quickly by her sister's side, pulling her gently back away from him and their men acted at the same time, taking Gendry by both arms.  
"My Lord, this man has not wronged your lady sister if it is what you fear. Release him." Lem said to Lord Stark, whom remained seated, unable to move.  
Lord Stark remained silent and observed his sister for a moment, she had dropped her gaze to the floor and stood quiet with her jaw set, apparently having decided to shut everyone out. Then he spoke to Gendry:  
"Ser, why would my sister act like this against you?"  
Gendry looked back to Arya, wishing they were alone. How much had she told them already? He knew she couldn't have been back for long, or else the brotherhood would have known. Finally he managed to drag his eyes back to Lord Stark.  
"Because I know lady Arya, my Lord. We kept each other company on the road... Long ago." 

 

 

 


	2. Battle scars

_Bran_  
  
They had stared in shock as Arya had made her way over to one of the men in stunning silence and simply backhanded him. Sansa had gone pale and Bran tried to get a view of who it was his sister had attacked. When she kicked him and Rickon started laughing, they had been quick to act before things got out of hand. He looked down on the man as he heard him claim he'd travelled together with Arya and found that he believed him. Arya had again gone cold and distant, but seeing her react at all had made Bran feel a bit better. At least she still reacted, however negative the reaction was.  
  
The man at their feet was bulky, with a mass of black hair and icy blue eyes. He asked for a word with Arya alone and Bran inspected his sisters reaction. In her way, she agreed. Turning around she stalked out of the great hall and the man was quick on his feet, following her out. Sansa returned to him and shook Bran's shoulder, saying that it wouldn't be wise to leave the two of them alone, but Bran figured that Arya would have said something if she needed their help. Sure, she was changed, but no less helpless than she'd been before. Sansa, seeing it was no use to whine, turned to Lem.  
"Ser, can you testify that man's claim?" She asked worriedly, her eyes darting to the door where Arya and the man had disappeared.  
"My lady, we should sit down and I shall tell you what I know."  
Sansa agreed. Standing there they drew the eyes of every person in the great hall. The brotherhood, apart from Lem, sat down with the rest of Winterfells inhabitants and the voices started up again.  
  
Lem sat himself near Bran and Sansa, where he could tell his side of the story. As the man talked, Bran tried to understand the relationship between his sister and the dark, big man she'd attacked. Of course she'd needed the company of someone who could protect her then, but according to Lem he too had only been a boy and a smith, of all things. _Better a smith than a rapist... Although he had been on his way to the Wall._  How they had managed to end up with the brotherhood after their departure from King's Landing was something he just couldn't understand.  
  
  
                          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  
  
  
_Arya_  
  
She moved quickly, well-aware that he would have no problem catching up and finally came to a stop below her father's beloved tree in the Godswood. His steps halted right behind her and she didn't turn to see him, to observe his face now that he was a man.  
"You left me." She accused, barely holding back the bitterness in her voice. "You chose them over me when you were supposed to come with me and..."  
"-And what?" He cut her off. "What would we have found, Arya? Would you have us live between ruins and feed ourselves with snow?"  
Not that he sounded angry or condescending, but his response still irritated her.  
"It doesn't matter!" Now she did turn to meet his eyes, still big with surprise. He looked stupid. "Doesn't matter what we would have ended up doing. What matters is that you would have remained loyal to me!"  
The words died in the darkness around them and Gendry's face showed the scowl he'd so often wear when they were children.  
"Loyal as your subordinate or your friend, m'lady?"  
That set her off again and she moved to him, fists hitting him hard on the chest.  
"Stupid, you're so stupid!"  
At first, he didn't move and took every blow, but then he put his arms around her and pulled her in even as she fought to detach herself from him.  
"Arya... Arya! I _am_ sorry." He murmured and strained to keep her in his embrace and she finally stilled. "What happened? Where have you been?"  
That she couldn't answer. Closing her eyes she moved her head back and forth. But he didn't ask again and he didn't let go of her. With a trembling sigh, Arya moved her arms and put them around his waist, pulling herself closer to the one person that didn't make her question her role.  
  
When they finally separated, they inspected each other in complete silence. It wasn't awkward, it had never been that way with him and, just as she did, he tried to decipher what changes she'd gone through from her appearance. The ever-present grimace on his face vanished and as it did she saw that he had, indeed, grown to become a man.  
"You let your hair grow." He pointed out.  
Her fingertips trailed the waves, she hadn't bothered to cut it. She dropped her hand to her side.  
"You have too." She answered and pointed at her own chin to indicate his beard.  
Gendry fought back a smile and she almost mirrored the expression, but she contained it, reminding herself that she was still mad at him.  
  
He began speaking after that. It seemed as if her lack of response didn't bother him at all, as he went on and on. But she found herself listening to every detail. How he'd worked as a smith for the brotherhood and learned to fight in return, how he'd met with Brienne of Tarth, the fights and the losses he'd been through and the scars the years had left. As he spoke, he twisted his hands around and watched the trees surrounding them and Arya thought of the road back then, when they were together. She couldn't find words of comfort and angrily she stood up, staring to the night around them. Would they have had the same awful fates if they had remained together? Still she felt as him leaving her had been the reason to it all. But she knew that was mostly because she needed to blame the past seven years on something... _anything_. Then he mentioned Lady Stoneheart.  
  
  
                          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  
  
  
_Gendry_  
  
He had almost managed to convince himself that it wasn't _him_ Arya was mad at. No matter how many fights, Arya's rage had always been directed to the world in general. That was the reason he didn't mind her hitting him. But when he had hugged her close and she had given up and embraced him back... He'd felt whole, for the first time in a long while. It made him wonder if she knew just how much he had missed her.  
  
Not that his mind had avoided the fact that she wasn't a child any more. While having her pressed to him, he had been very aware of it. But still... It was _Arya_. She would always be on a whole other category than other women. The lust that might have surprised him didn't win over the immense relief of having her back. More than just a girl, Arya had been a friend. The only one he had had in a long time, back then.  
  
Then he'd told her everything, even about Lady Stoneheart. The part of Arya's face that he still could see remained impassive as he spoke but she did get tense when he mentioned her mother.  
"I met her." She simply said as he finished speaking.  
Turning around she met his gaze and he saw sadness in her eyes.  
"I intended to kill her myself. She isn't my mother any more... She wouldn't recognize us, if she saw us. Everything that is left in her is revenge, nothing else." A dry laugh escaped her, it held no humour. "Guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."  
"But you recognized your brother and your sister." He said, sounding a bit desperate as he tried to prove her wrong, convince her that she wasn't her mother. "You recognized me."  
Arya scowled and he found he would have recognized that if she had shown it earlier in the hall. She looked so much like her younger self.  
"Yes. But your face looks so stupid that it would be a miracle for me to forget."  
With that, she turned around and entered the great hall again. Gendry gave an exasperated sigh and followed.  
  
  
                          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  
  
  
_Sansa_  
  
Sansa let out a sigh of relief as she saw her sister stomp into the hall, staring down every person she passed. For a moment, she felt a knot of nervousness in her stomach, which dissolved the more she realized that Arya hadn't show that grumpy face since she had gotten here. Arya hadn't shown _any_ face, really. It had scared her and troubled her, but Sansa realized that she needn't worry if Arya was back to being grumpy. She'd been that way before. This meant her sister was herself again, right?  
  
The man that entered shortly after her, the one she now had learned was named Gendry Waters, looked equally sour and Sansa worried again. Had they fought? Weren't they friends? Arya sat down beside her, her face returning to that detached, cold stare that she had worn since she stepped through the doors of Winterfell just a day ago. Sansa leaned in and touched her hand, smiling at her fondly.  
"Is that a friend of yours?" She asked.  
Surprising her, Arya made a face as she followed Gendry's moves to sit with his fellow brothers.  
"He is just a stupid bull."  
Arya had sounded so much like herself that Sansa laughed and hugged her. However angry Gendry had made her, Sansa was glad she could glimpse small bits of her little sister in that empty shell that had returned to them and she turned to look at Gendry. He was now watching them and she gave him a thankful smile. At the same time, Sansa grew very curious about the two of them. Throughout the rest of the night, she made sure to spy closely them, counting every glance they shared.


	3. Lady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya finally breaks the silence.

  
_Arya_  
  
One week had passed since her return to Winterfell and the arrival of the brotherhood. In the end, Bran had welcomed those who could spare time to help rebuild Winterfell. Most of them stayed and one of them was Gendry. Much like in the past, Arya visited the forge and sat there, watching him work. Sansa and Bran where busy and she knew she could be more helpful, but for now she decided it was enough to stay out of their way. The brotherhood had brought information about Lady Stoneheart, which resulted in her brother and sister finding out exactly who she was. They had heard rumours before, but nothing concrete enough for them to actually take action. Now they did and Arya was against it, although she didn't share her discord with them because even if she did, it was Bran's decision and he wouldn't back down.  
  
She sat now in the forge, the ringing sound of hammer against steel rang in her ears and the heat made drops of sweat slid down her cleavage. Although Sansa had tried and tried to keep her ladylike and clean, Arya managed to find ways to get breeches and run off. During the time she'd been around she had escaped daily to the woods surrounding Winterfell and returned only to join Gendry at the forge.  
  
It didn't come as a surprise that he avoided the castle, even after various invitations from Bran to dine with them. Arya guessed that he would have gone away from Winterfell, too, if it weren't for her. That didn't mean they were openly nicer towards each other. The irritation she felt the first time seeing him back hadn't quite subsided yet, but she did ponder on the things he'd said and realized that although she was still mad at him it was mostly because of her wounded pride. And that she understood that he'd been right to stay behind, no matter how much she hated it.  
  
Sitting in there and watching him was something that calmed her. He shot glances at her but never spoke and neither did she encourage him to do so, not before anyway. Seeing as she wasn't the girl she was before, she now noticed things she hadn't earlier. Gendry had grown taller than before and his muscled body was broader, something she hadn't thought possible. Even with a beard, his face still held the resemblance of the boy he was back then. His hair was still pitch black and his eyes just as bright blue as before. That stubborn glower of his was still his main expression, but even with it he was handsome. Had there possible been a woman in his life? Was there one now? The thought surprised her and quickly fired her irritation, mostly because she hadn't thought herself capable of worrying over such trivial things. After days of having their quiet stare-downs, her grumpy voice finally broke the silence.  
"Why did you decide to stay here?"  
  
  
                          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  
  
_Gendry_  
  
Her voice rang clearly through the noise he was making and he set his hammer down. Of course he'd waited for her to talk, hoping that maybe she'd apologize although he knew deep inside that Arya would never do such thing. But what she asked was dumb, since she should very well know why he stayed and he shouldn't have to say it. He was giving a hand in the restoration of the castle. _Her Winterfell_.  
"What." He said, annoyance clear in his voice. "You want me gone so badly?"  
To his surprise, her tone softened.  
"You probably have a wife waiting somewhere." Then her cockiness returned. "Or five."  
He couldn't really help laughing at that. When Arya looked up and her face turned into one of her many angry scowls, he only laughed harder.  
"What's so funny!" She yelled over his voice and stood up. "Not that I understand why, but plenty of women showed interest back then!"  
Plenty was definitely an exaggerated estimate, but he smirked down on her as she came closer and tried to burn holes into him with her stare.  
"Why?" He said, still laughing. "Would it ruin m'lady's plans if I were married?"  
"I could not possibly care less if some dumb wench had the bad luck of ending up with you. And when exactly will you stop calling me that? I am no more lady than you are."  
"Maybe you weren't a lady back then. But now..." Arya stilled where she stood beside him and lowered her gaze towards the fire as his voice dropped to a murmur. "Now you really are one."  
"Couldn't be one, even if I wanted to." Her voice had dropped to a whisper too and he strained to hear, leaning closer. "I can't remember who I was before I left or when I was with you and Hot Pie and the others... I don't know, I just... can't."  
A shudder ran through him as she hunched her shoulders and dropped her head. He felt he wanted to embrace her again, like he did the night before, but he knew that hadn't been appropriate. While he debated it, his hand flew on its own to hold hers and she didn't draw back. She had small hands, not quite as rough as his and warm to the touch. Unthinkingly, he moved his thumb, caressing her skin softly and thought of what to say to make her think of anything else.  
  
Their moment was gone as soon as it had started as a man came into the forge with a cart filled with armor and swords. It was Gendry who hastily drew back his hand. The intruder glanced at the two of them then spoke:  
"Pardon, my lady. Did I interrupt someth--"  
"You did. And I'm no lady!" Arya said angrily and walked out, pushing the man out of her way.  
Coughing to hide a snort, Gendry picked up his hammer again and turned back to work. All the while his mind travelled back to the thought of how Arya's skin felt and wondering if she was as warm everywhere else. He was thankful that the fire was a good excuse for the blush he felt blossoming on his face.  
  
  
                          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  
  
_Sansa_  
  
When Arya entered the hall, Sansa noticed at once that her sister wasn't quite the usual quiet and distanced person she'd been when she left and guessed right away where she might have been. She expected her to be grumpy, after her visit at the forge, as she often was. But Arya was deep in thought as she walked to the table where Bran and Sansa sat, both examining the sketches for one of the towers.  
"You look troubled." Sansa said softly and reached for her sister's hand.  
Arya gave in almost absent-mindedly and took her hand, sitting down beside her.  
"Is it Gendry Waters you've gone to visit again? Oh Arya, a forge is not a place fit for a lady." Sansa sighed and combed down her sisters hair, now frizzy from the heat in the forge. "Can you not ask him to meet you outside?"  
She didn't mention that she'd also feel better if the two of them where some place they could be seen by others, as well.  
"We could." Arya said and her eyes turned to Sansa, a glint in them that forebode bad news. "Go out for a ride."  
"Well, yes. I don't see why we couldn't spare a couple of men to escort you-"  
"No. No guards."  
"But Arya--"  
"There is nothing out there that can hurt me." Her little sister responded. "And if there were... Sansa, trust me when I say I can take care of myself. Didn't I do exactly that? The past seven years?"  
"I am not sure..."  
"Trust me."  
Sansa was still uncomfortable with the thought, but she couldn't say no to Arya. Not when this was the first thing she had asked for since she had returned and her sister's expression turned hopeful for the very first time.  
"I guess, if you do not stray too far..."  
Then Arya smiled her devious smile and Sansa felt tears pooling in her eyes at the that. She hugged her sister closely.  
  
  
                          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  
  
_Arya_  
  
His hand had been leathery to the touch and inexplicably cooler than hers, although she'd been farther away from the fire. When he'd taken her hand, the anxiety evaporated almost instantly. It was his way to reassure her, she knew. Then that man had come inside and spoiled everything.  
  
When Sansa had asked her to meet Gendry somewhere else she had known why her sister worried. The same way Gendry had grown, so had she. Although she would never accept being seen as a helpless creature, to the rest of the world she remained merely a girl. _No, a woman_ , she corrected herself. If only they knew the faces she'd worn. She felt the cold creep in, as she sat beside her sister barely listening to their plans for the new tower.  
  
Arya had finished her list long ago and always managed to find people to add. There would always be someone who had had a hand in her family's murder, they were too many for her to take on them all. That was why she had returned. After seeing her mother, she had realized she couldn't go on like that. But she hadn't known how hard it would be to go on with life, as the others had. Maybe they had some secret in handling it that they hadn't bothered to share with her. Still the faces hunted her, calling to her to return to the way of life she now knew. Every day she spent in Winterfell, the anxiety grew stronger. Not knowing who she'd be now. The pressure of seeing her family already moving on made her feel even worse.  
  
Maybe that was why she needed Gendry's company so much. There was some kind of in-between with him, where she wasn't truly Arya but neither was she Arry, Weasle, Nan or Salty. But Gendry wouldn't be her friend now, not with her new role. If she had known he lived, maybe she would have searched for him instead. They could have lived on somewhere else, without titles or faces or the brotherhood or her family. But now, how could she do that to Bran and Sansa? Even Rickon. How could she abandon them?  
  
After some while, Arya made up some excuse of being tired and shut herself in her room. As she lay on her bed, tiredness really did come and as her mind grew foggy, she thought of Gendry's caresses and the way they had seemed to chase the darkness away.

 

 


	4. North wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things finally start going well for Arya when suddenly... not.

_Arya_  
  
As soon as she had woken up she had sneaked into Rickon's chamber to 'borrow' his clothes, now that Bran's didn't fit. It was early, the sun had yet to lighten up the day, but it was more comfortable that way. Most of the castle slept and the few people awake didn't ask anything of her. Running down to the stables she prepared two horses, then made her way to the forge. Opening the door as quietly as possible, she peeked inside and grew relieved when she noticed the man who worked with Gendry wasn't sleeping in the room. Only Gendry was there, laying splayed across his small straw bed. He looked too big for it and one of his arms hung down reaching the floor, while the other covered his face. He was sleeping deeply, his chest moving slowly up and down.  
"Gendry." She whispered, unsure if she really wanted to wake him yet.  
But she spoke again, softly, and ran her own hand up his arm. She was caught up by emotion seeing him this helpless. Over and over she said his name, as her hand reached his chest and splayed open, feeling the muscles below. She was so caught up in her exploration of him, that she failed to notice his eyes fluttering open.

  
A surprised gasp escaped her when suddenly Gendry's arm had coiled around her waist and pulled her to him. Taken off guard, she lost her balance and found herself pressed against his chest, his muscles tensed now as he held her close.  
"What are you doing, Arya?"   
His voice was mocking and maybe he expected her to get mad and jump off, calling him stupid and worthless. And she probably would have, had she not suddenly been overcome with embarrassment at the sudden closeness and the feel of another tense muscle against her, one she hadn't expected. When she met his eyes with her own mortified ones, he let her go.  
"Sorry, that was... inappropriate." Now apologetic, he dodged her eyes as he sat up on his bed.  
Arya was quicker than him to regain her composure and quickly got up on her two feet.  
"Wouldn't expect anything less from perverted bulls."  
"You are calling me perverted? I wasn't the one with my hands all over a defenseless person!"  
"I was waking you up, stupid!" She rolled her eyes. "Now get up and get dressed, we're going for a ride."  
  
  
                          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  
  
_Gendry_  
  
Even if he argued that it was too early in the morning for any activities at all, Arya would only rant 'til she got her way. So with no further comments, he did get up as she turned her back to him and got dressed quickly. All the while his reddening face still broadcasted his shame at the thought of what he had just done. He hadn't thought much of it, as he had woken up and she'd been there, touching him. He had always teased Arya when they were small, but now they we both grown. Not to mention that her reaction was the one thing that made it all awkward.  
"Done." He said and she turned around, her face all business. "What did you have in mind?"  
"A ride in the woods, to get away from this all. We could hunt! Like when we were small."  
"Oh yes, let's reminisce about the times we went hungry and homeless... I have work to do."  
"Gendry!"  
He knew what was coming and he wouldn't be able to say no in the end, that's why he cut her off.  
"It's dangerous out there, Arya. We aren't children and you are a lady, however much you wish to deny it. You don't even wear a sword anymore! What, do you expect me to protect you if something happens?"  
"Nothing will happen! We will stay close. Even if something did happen, why do you and Sansa still think I am helpless? I made it through these past seven years, did I not?" Scowling now, she kicked a cup on the floor next to the bed. "I really need to get out. Please."  
When she looked up at him, her scowl now turning into a pout, he knew he had lost. Raising his hands in defeat, he followed after her as she happily led him to the horses.  
  
They rode hard through the woods. Arya had always been a good rider when they were children, but somehow he had caught up to her through the years in between. Not that it mattered much, in the end she did leave him in the dust. When she finally decided they should stop for a break, they were both sweaty and red-faced. They had found a small stream with cool water and as the horses rested, they washed their faces and drank. It was not too cold outside and the sun had already lightened up the woods, they rested against a thick tree and soaked in the sun's warmth. Arya had stolen a wineskin from the kitchens and they passed it back and forth as they quietly observed the woods around them.  
"Nothing has changed in here. This place is untouched by war." Arya said, her voice low.  
"Mm."  
"The Hound, remember him? I had the chance to kill him. I couldn't. But I killed many others... How can I be a lady now, after all that? I've done monstrous things."  
Now he turned and really saw her. Her eyes scanned his face and he knew what she sought; any sign of repulsion or surprise.  
"That is the way of war. And do you really want to become a lady now? And be married off to some lord, to have his children and never touch a sword ever again? If so, then you changed. The Arya I knew would never accept that fate."  
Her face turned angry and she looked like she was about to retort, but instead she leaned closer. Raising the wineskin he assumed she was going for, he opened himself to her attack and was taken aback by her arm sneaking around his neck instead. Arya's lips were suddenly upon his, hungrily drawing his response. For a moment he forgot what he was and what she was, responding with the same aching passion as her. He had never known how much he had wanted this, he thought, as Arya moved on top of him and his hands pressed her hips closer. It wasn't until her mouth moved to his neck instead and he finally could draw a fresh, cleansing breath that his mind managed to break the weird trance she had put him in. He quickly relocated his hands to her shoulders and pushed her carefully away from his body, the cold seeping rapidly in between them.  
"Arya we can't do this, you're a-"  
"No." She cut him off. "You said so yourself, the Arya you knew would never accept that fate."  
"Yes, but I can't, I-!"  
"You want me to be a lady. Sansa, Bran, Winterfell... Everyone, even you. That's why we can't do this. ...Or is it because you don't want me?"  
At once his hand moved to rest again on her hip. Of course he wanted her, she was well aware of that fact since their embrace the night he presented himself to Lord Stark. Still... She was right. Even if the Arya he knew wasn't, the Arya in front of him now _was_ a lady of Winterfell.  
"I can't."  
  
  
                          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  
  
_Arya_  
  
She fought the angry tears that threatened to spill. Giving him a sudden, half-hearted punch on the arm she rose and left. If at least she had one person to back her up, to assure her that being herself was just fine, she could do it. But Jon wasn't around, her father wasn't around and now even Gendry insisted on her being a lady. _And if I cry for stupid things like this, I truly am one_ , she thought bitterly. The ride back to the castle was blurry and as soon as she was back she locked herself in her room. When Sansa sought her out, she didn't say anything and she didn't struggle as her sister did her best to dress and paint that lady fantasy they all wanted when it was time for dinner.  
  
When she walked into the dining hall, she was convinced he wouldn't be there, that he would keep avoiding the castle. But it was his voice she heard while making her way up to her sister's side and Arya froze as his hand circled hers.  
"Arya, please..."  
"Aren't you forgetting something, _Ser_?" She responded instantly, her voice a stream of ice-cold water.  
Gendry dropped her hand and stood up, looking down on her as if wanting to pierce through her soul with the sky in his eyes. It was almost enough to make her take her words back, to beg him to please not be mad with her because he was ironically the only thing that could make her remain in Winterfell. But she pressed her lips together and stared defiantly back, holding her ground even as his hand moved to one of her curls instead and caressed it softly.  
" _M'lady_ looks beautiful, any man in Winterfell would wed you given the chance." His voice dripped with sarcasm and Arya distanced herself from him at once.  
Around them the people seemed oblivious, yet she did catch Sansa's eyes from across the room and she saw her sister could read the tension between them.  
"Don't you have any horse-shoes to forge?" Was her only retort as she pushed her way past him, giving him a push that would probably end up hurting her more than him.  
When she was by the dais she glanced back and saw his black hair disappear behind hall's doors. Now she did fear her own words. Would Gendry remain in Winterfell? Her hands closed tightly around a fork as she yet again found herself fighting back those angry tears. It would have been his fault, anyway!  
  
  
                          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  
  
_Sansa_  
  
Even if she hadn't heard whatever they had spoken of, she had seen Arya's face as she found her way to the other side of the dais to sit by Rickon instead and knew her sister was avoiding questions. Gendry Waters had disappeared too and now she worried. Observing her sister from a far, she could see that she was greatly irritated. Instead of having a carefree dinner, Sansa spent it pondering on whatever had gone wrong and then excused herself very early. But instead of her room, Sansa made her way to the forge instead.  
  
There she found him immersed in his work. Noticing his muscle tone, she understood why Arya had preferred spending time here rather than in the castle. The man was well-built, his muscles were a symphony of movement as he used his strength to bend iron to his will. For a moment she simply observed and wondered what he was making, until she realized he wasn't creating at all. He was destroying, hammering all his anger into the red-hot iron.  
"Ser Waters..." She said softly and the hammer stopped.  
"Lady Stark." He said, surprised to find her in the forge. His surprise turned to worry at once. "Has something happened to Ary- I mean, Lady Arya?"  
"No, you needn't worry. I only... Happened to see that you two seemed to argue today. And I know it is not my business at all! I am just curious as to what happened. I know you mean a lot to my sister, that you must be aware of."  
He cast his eyes down to the floor, a defeated man.  
"I know her as Arya... Well, Arry, first... But Arya then and Arya now. The Arya I knew back then wasn't a lady."  
"Neither was the one I knew." Sansa said and laughed softly, yet that didn't inspire any comfort in Gendry.  
"And I doubt the Arya I know now will be happy becoming one." He finished.  
"Why?"  
Not that she didn't agree with him, she simply was curious as to what he would answer. But he didn't.  
"Even if she is one, you can be with her." She said and watched him look up surprised.  
"I am not a knight, Lady Stark. Not truly."  
"And I've found that the ones who deny it are often the ones closest to the real thing." She said with a small voice. "However, it doesn't matter. Arya doesn't need a knight. Right now she needs her childhood friend, so I beg of you Ser, please don't leave my sister."  
His answer was a nod and she turned around prepared to take her leave when she heard his voice again.  
"Lady Stark... I need to ask you something."  
"Yes?" She said and turned around.  
"Could I make her a sword? Would you be against it?"  
For a moment, the silence grew between them. Sansa saw herself with Arya as children, she saw herself alone in King's Landing, in the Eyrie... When she was a child she had thought she knew about the ladies' roles and the knight's roles. The world had been either good or evil then, no in-between. She thought of Robb and the Hound. _Little bird..._  
"Please make her that sword, Ser Waters."  
Sansa smiled sadly at him before she left.


	5. Winter is coming

_Arya_

  
The days had quickly gone by since their encounter in the dining hall and she had not gone to the forge once since. It wasn't because she didn't dare to, but because she felt like if she did then he would win. Not that she had an inkling of what kind of contest they were playing, but she was set on not giving him the pleasure of winning.

Luckily for her, Bran and Sansa turned out to have a hard time finding any trace of Lady Stoneheart. Something that made her feel slightly hopeful that said creature would no longer be alive. Maybe someone had finished the job she had failed to do. That wasn't the only good thing that happened. Bran informed her that Jon would be visiting Winterfell soon. She didn't know what to expect exactly. Seeing Gendry's development, surely Jon would be a man grown now as well. How would the war have shaped him? Arya looked forward to meeting him again, yet couldn't help but fearing what changes she might find in her brother.  
  
Now Arya found herself alone in her bedchamber, curled up in the bed. After the good news, Bran had made a sudden turn of topic and began talking about marriage. Not that she hadn't seen it coming, but she had somehow expected her brother to first take care of Sansa's betrothal. Her sister was fancied by many but showed no more than polite interest for her suitors. Arya had simply assumed that Joffrey had broken her. And even though a childish part of her thought that it was just as well, after all the incidents in King's Landing, she couldn't help but reprimanding herself because, after all, Sansa's aversion towards marriage seemed to be the only thing they had in common now. However, she hadn't remained by the table to endure any more talk about marriage and hopefully her disinclination to the subject would come across with her sudden departure.  
  
But both marriage and Jon made her think of Gendry. Lately it was hard to keep her mind from returning to thoughts of him, regardless of what she was doing. It wasn't that she would like marrying him; in that matter she was dead set on remaining a Stark. But surely he would have told her he'd been right, that her only destiny right now was to be offered to some man to become a wife and eventually a mother. With everything that had happened, she doubted she would survive her wedding night, much less motherhood. She could never be someone like her lady mother had been and she definitely didn't need Gendry to remind her of that.  
  
After enough brooding alone in her room, she finally decided to pay a visit to her sister.  
  
  
                          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  
  
  
_Sansa_  
  
She was surprised when she heard a knock at such late hour, even more when she found out who was visiting. Without a word she let her sister in and returned to the seat in front of the mirror where she had been combing through her hair.  
"Don't you have maids to do that for you?" said Arya as she walked in, brushing all objects on the vanity table with her fingers as she passed it.  
"I also have perfectly able hands, Arya." Her voice was relaxed, as it had been of late with Arya, from the moment she realized her sister wouldn't disappear again, at least for now. "Is something troubling you?"  
After some walking back and forth, Arya finally sat down on the bed and hugged her legs close to her. For the first time in a long time, Sansa felt as if Arya looked her real age and remembered that she was, after all, her little sister. Sansa left her brush and rose to join her sister, a hand softly brushing Arya's dark hair from her face to find her gray Stark eyes.  
"Is it Bran's talk about marriage that has got you worried now? Is it because you already have someone in mind?" Sansa asked her, the second question more tender and careful.  
"It is not Gendry, if that is what you're thinking." Arya bit her lip and glanced away. "It is... Me not wanting to get married. Ever."  
"You want to remain a Stark." She responded matter-of-fact.  
Her sisters shocked expression told her that she had hit bull's eye and Sansa smiled sadly, now caressing Arya's hair.  
"How did you know?" asked Arya surprised.  
"It is natural for us, but Bran has no understanding of it. I have already been married once, to Tyrion Lannister and thankfully that marriage was never consummated but... Even then I already feared that I'd never get back here as a Stark. And I already look more Tully than Stark!" Sansa laughed softly, then her eyes turned sad. "I doubt Bran understands that the two of us need the Stark name... Because it is the only memento of our family and quite possibly the only thing that will keep us from losing our minds."  
"...I've forgotten their faces, Sansa." Said Arya, her voice was no more than a whisper.  
It was a deep confession, coming from Arya and Sansa's heart ached seeing her sister as she was now, broken and dispirited. Pulling her in she hugged her tightly, wishing she had the power to put the pieces back together solely by touch.  
"You need only to look in a mirror, Arya. You will see our lord father's eyes and his hair... Look upon me and you will find our lady mother and Robb. We are Sansa and Arya Stark from Winterfell, nothing will ever change that. Winter is in our blood."  
  
The two of them had never been close as children, yet now Sansa could finally see Arya between the cracks forming in her mask, she realized they had - to her dismay - much more in common now. For a while they remembered their childhood, spoke of memories from a time long ago and simply enjoyed long silences. Then Sansa felt like she had to, once again, shift to another matter her sister was stubbornly shelving.  
"Have you gone to visit Gendry Waters?"  
"This again? I thought you _didn't_ want me to go visit him."  
"Not in the forge. ...Besides, I might have changed my mind about that. I paid the forge a visit recently and I understand why you find yourself attracted to the place. Or rather, the person."  
"...Sansa?!"  
Seeing Arya's surprised face made her burst into laughter.  
"Well, he is rather handsome, isn't he? Not to mention well-built." Her eyebrow rose appreciatively at the memory.  
"I haven't thought of him like-"  
Sansa rolled her eyes at her sister before she could finish.  
"Fine. I have." Finished Arya, desperation clear in her voice.  
"Have you two..." She left the question unfinished and curiously observed her little sister's reaction.  
"Wha- Sans- No!" Arya jumped out of the bed. "I am not having this conversation with you!"  
"What? Afraid we might pack you up and send you to the silent sisters for being wicked?" said Sansa, laughing even harder as Arya stalked dramatically out of her room.  
They had definitely grown.  
  
  
                          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  
  
  
_Bran_  
  
The morning following the dinner where both his sisters had left him to dine alone, one leaving after the other, he found Sansa breaking her fast and Rickon rushing to his morning lessons. Sansa gave him a short and uncharacteristically unpleasant 'morning' and returned to her food.  
"I can understand Arya." He said suddenly. "But I can't understand you, Sansa. You wanted to be married since we were children."  
"People change, brother. If it is allies you require, you still have Rickon to marry off. And yourself."  
He sighed heavily. A lot of Sansa's careful, ladylike demeanor had disappeared during the years. He couldn't blame his sister, though. Neither of them. And since she publicly remained as innocent and charming as ever, it hadn't been a problem.  
"Hopefully Jon will be able to talk some sense into Arya." He said as he reached for the bacon.  
"Sense? If anyone is going to bend to Arya's will, it surely will be Jon."  
He wasn't about to restart the discussion on Arya right now, so he changed subject at once.  
"We could find you a great match, Sansa. You don't lack admirers in the least. Even Prince Aegon is said to have spoken of your-"  
"I've had my fill of princes and kings, Bran. If you intend to marry me against my will, then do me a favor and choose some insignificant lordling living as far from here as possible, for I will not be able to look upon you with love if you do."  
With that, she stood up leaving her food half-eaten and disappeared as she had done the evening before. Bran sighed again, wondering if there were ever creatures as impossible to deal with as women.  
  
  
                          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  
  
  
_Gendry_  
  
He hadn't seen her for days when she suddenly appeared and went to sit in her corner. During those days he had worked tirelessly and now was the only day he had taken a break from her sword. While he might have spent hours shaping and beating, thinking how to bring forth the best in her persona in the pieces of iron, he was still cross with her after their last encounter.  
"Making sure I don't slack off on making those horse-shoes?" He said gruffly and bit his tongue almost instantly. Why was he the one speaking first? He shouldn't have.  
"Turns out I have to, because you can't even forge those properly." Her voice was so snappy he almost laughed out loud.  
"Ah, m'lady... You're all bark." Was his reply.  
When he heard her move he thought she might be leaving and his heart sank for a bit, thinking that they could have made up but he had chosen to be an ass instead.  
  
That was a thought that quickly faded the second he felt her foot hard on his calf. With an angry snarl he put the hammer down and turned around angrily.  
"What is your problem?" He almost yelled.  
"You are!" She actually did shriek loudly.  
But he didn't retort, not in words. They stood silent for a moment, then his hand moved to let his fingers trace the wavy pattern of Arya's dark locks down to her arms. The moment her eyes stopped following his hands movement, he expected her to slap his hand away but was more surprised to see doubt in her eyes as she stared wordlessly at him. What could he tell her? That he was sorry for seeing her as a lady? That he would gladly have accepted the chance to wrestle her down again and dirty her dress once more, because it would hide what she was?  
"You really are beautiful, though." It was a low murmur, but she heard it.  
It was the wrong thing to say, judging from Arya's reaction. Slapping his hand away she turned and walked furiously out of the forge. Why did he even bother complimenting her? It clearly would always end up angering her.  
  
  
                          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  
  
  
_Arya_  
  
If she still had needle on her she would have bled him. How was it possible? How could someone be that stupid? Angrily she hit anything in her path as she made her way to the castle. He should have been apologizing for what he said in the dining hall. Instead he decided to throw salt on her wounds.  
  
Closing the door behind her in her room she walked to the mirror and stared ragingly at the girl standing there. Why was she wearing that mask? She was a faceless man no longer, she didn't need to put on facades for others and most importantly she didn't need to do anything others required of her because she was Arya Stark and no one other than herself had any say in her life.  
  
Finding the sewing scissors took only an instant and she stood again before the mirror. She spent no energy trying to burn the image of her current self in her memories, she didn't need to. Slowly she worked the scissors and her long dark locks fell heavily on the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What, did you expect Sansa to remain an angel after all that? Noope! And this is finally taking the form I had originally imagined. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I did.


	6. Arya

_  
  
Sansa  
  
_ According to Sansa, her dramatical shriek had most definitely been justified. Her sister didn't agree. Only two nights earlier she had been sewing peacefully with the younger girls in the castle when her sister had entered and shocked them all. At first, no one had reacted because not one had recognized her. They all had thought it was a boy, but then they all did a double-take. It was Arya dressed in Rickon's clothes and her wavy, long hair was gone. Cut brutally short and uneven, pointing at all directions.  
"What happened to you?!" Yelled Sansa as she ran over to inspect her sister.  
"Nothing happened, I cut my hair." Was Arya's matter-of-fact answer as she looked up at her sister. "Help me with the back."  
It had gotten very hard to form words then and she had for a moment only poked at her little sister's work of art. Her hair had grown so long and beautiful, a dark frame to Arya's beautiful light complexion and gray eyes. It was completely gone.  
"Oh Arya...! Why?!" This time her voice sounded like a hurt plea.  
"It is more comfortable this way. Will you help me or not?"  
  
Both had left for Sansa's room after that, where Sansa had done her best to even out the remaining hair. After staring at it for long enough, she found herself actually liking it a bit. Somehow the new cut made her sister's eyes look bigger and her thick eyelashes longer than before. Combing it down, as much as it was possible, she was done with her finishing touches. Unthinkingly she had started combing through her own long hair with her fingers.  
"Will you not regret it?" Sansa had anxiously asked.  
Arya smiled.  
"Why would I? What kind of man would want to marry a girl that looks like a boy?" She said jumping down from the chair.  
Sansa actually new some who would, but didn't mention it to her little sister.  
  
Two days later, they stood side by side waiting right outside the castle for Jon to arrive. When Bran had seen Arya's new hairdo he had whined for hours, saying that his sisters didn't think of him or the family and even now he shot resentful glances at her. Rickon had simply complimented Arya on it, saying it fit her better and she might as well, seeing as she always dressed as a boy anyway. Naturally that had earned him an angry scowl from Bran as well. Now she, Rickon and Arya stood beside Bran's horse all red-faced from the cold wind and tried to spot Jon in the midst of the black-clad men approaching.  
  
"There he is!" Exclaimed Arya and pointed to the right.  
Sansa had no idea how she could have recognized him so quickly. She herself certainly could never have done it, even though she had been older than Arya when Jon had left for the Wall and had also met him not too long ago. But the more she stared at the bearded, serious-looking man, the better she could distinguish the young boy that had been Lord Stark's bastard Jon Snow.  
"Bran!" Jon said as he reached his brother and jumped down from his horse.  
With two big strides he was at Bran's side and grabbed his arm, giving the closest thing to a hug he could with Bran unable to get down from his horse.  
  
Although they had met Jon before Arya had returned, this was somewhat different. Now the remaining Stark's where all together at last and the reunion held more emotion than their past ones. Sansa and Jon had barely spoken during their prior meetings, much less embraced, but now he lit up seeing her face and pulled her into a big hug that made her squeal in surprise and laugh.  
"Welcome back, Jon." She said.  
Pulling back he held her shoulders and nodded.  
"Aye, it's good to be back." He threw a glance towards Rickon, completely missing Arya. "...Where is Arya?"  
  
  
                          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  
  
  
_Arya  
  
_ When her brother completely missed her standing there, only one step away, she laughed out loud and his eyes moved back to her. They widened in surprise and his face split into an amazing smile when he recognized her.  
"Arya!"  
Unable to keep still, she jumped on him and hugged him tightly.  
"Seven Hells, Jon! It is really you!"  
Helping him regain his balance as she stepped back, she looked into her brother's eyes. They were the same colour as her own, only darker. He promised they would talk later and pinched her cheek as one would a child before he greeted Rickon last of all and then returned to Bran's side. They would probably need a while to discuss where to accommodate the visitors. When Sansa and Rickon followed, Arya decided she would visit Gendry.  
  
Only a couple of days had passed since she had stalked out of the forge in anger and now it was clearer that the one she had been mostly mad with had been herself, not him. Would he no longer find her pretty? Running her hand through her short hair for strength, she stepped through the door and found the forge empty. As she made her way out and around the forge, she began to feel an icky sense of unease building up in her stomach. What if he was gone? What if he had decided to leave only moments ago? What if she could have stopped him?  
  
At the other side of the forge she found him focusing deeply on something. When she moved closer, she saw that he was working with a scabbard.  
"Why are you working out here? It's cold."  
He froze for a moment, but then he moved his hands again to polish the metal parts of the scabbard.  
"For the light. It gets dark quickly around here." He responded, still not looking at her.  
"Cold as well." Her words formed clouds in the air as if to make a point.  
Nonetheless she decided to sit down beside him. When he turned his head to take a look at her, he dropped the scabbard and she almost called him stupid. Then she remembered that his surprise was to be expected, he hadn't seen her since she had cut her hair. Again her hand flew up to comb through it, his shocked expression made her feel a bit self-conscious. But what of it? It was not like she needed him to like it. Looking away she busied her hand, pulling dried grass from the earth and exhaling scornfully.  
"What?" She almost grunted.  
She saw him pick the scabbard up from the corner of her eye and decided to face him, fearful as to what his reaction would be regardless of her earlier convictions.  
"That brings back memories." He said as he locked eyes with her.  
But it was his hand moving towards her that made her heart jump to her throat. To her disappointment, he didn't touch her. As if reminding himself of something, his hand dropped and so did his glance. Would asking him be out of place? Why was this important, again? That didn't matter, she needed to know.  
"Not so beautiful now, am I?"  
That would have sounded much better with less trembling in her voice, she reproached herself for it as she bit her lip in anger.  
"Why wouldn't you be?" She heard, his voice sincerely puzzled.  
Arya was at loss for words.  
  
  
                          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  
  
  
_Gendry_  
   
Her lack of response surprised him more than her hair had. When he encountered her eyes again, they were big and startled and she closed her mouth abruptly as if she had been about to say something. Earlier he hadn't really felt embarrassed about saying such things, mostly because to him they were the simple truth. But seeing such a reaction made him blush, because he never believed it meant much to her coming from him.  
  
As the silence stretched between them he searched desperately for something to say that might fight the awkwardness, when he remembered what he held in his hands. She had a great timing.  
"Wait here." He told her and ran into the forge, found the sword and put it in the scabbard.  
Running back outside he felt giddy with happiness, wanting to laugh out loud knowing that she would be the one surprised now.  
"Here." He said and handed the sheathed sword over.  
  
The shapes of wolves shone in the last rays of light of the afternoon and Arya ran her hand through its intricate details; every claw and tooth. The pommel was a roaring wolf, a reasonable size for a sword meant to fight with, and its eyes were yellow emeralds; Lady Stark's own contribution. But the patterns and wolves upon the pommel and guard were only useless beautifications, the true beauty of it was to be found within the scabbard. Closing her hand around the hilt, Arya drew it out and turned it around, feeling its weight. It was a sword made to fit as an extension of her arm. The connection was instant and it was almost as if he wasn't there. Arya jumped to her feet and took a few steps away from him and the forge's wall.  
  
For a while he watched silently as Arya danced around. As children he had seen her with her sword and later on even with sticks, her dance always as intriguing to him. For him, sword-fighting had never been anything more than brutal. But Arya had showed him the beauty in it and even kindled an interest for it within him. Seeing her now was something else, though. Every movement was precise, without a trace of doubt. As children, he might have held the advantage of strength, but now it was clear that he would not stand a chance against her.  
  
Returning to his side, she sheathed the sword and sat without words for a moment. Then just as he began to get nervous again, she jumped and circled his neck with her arms. He felt her hide her face in his neck and his hand moved unthinkingly to cup her head, breathing out in relief.  
"Thank you." It was a murmur and he almost didn't hear it at all.  
Knowing fully well that they shouldn't be in the position they were in right now, he touched her shoulders to make her pull away. Then maybe the sole fact that she did so without restraint was the one thing that made him change his mind, or possibly the look she was giving him. There was also a chance that he did what he did next because he was aware that she didn't expect it at all. Whatever the reason, Gendry leaned in and pressed his lips softly against hers.  
  
It was a huge contrast to their last kiss, where the rush of finally being that close had made them heedless and hasty. Last time, Arya had kissed him and he had felt he couldn't let that opportunity slip by. He had not known when or if it would happen again. But now he wasn't in a hurry, he didn't worry if it happened again or not, as long as it happened. When she answered with the movement of her own lips, encouraging his actions, he felt as if he was melting into her. Time dissolved and he filled his lungs with her every time he breathed in. Often she hurried, running her hands through his hair and willing him to lose his mind as he had last time. Yet he didn't intend to let it spiral out of control, this he wanted to be completely aware of, to remember always. Stilling his lips on hers, making her pause, inhale and whisper his name into his mouth, he coaxed her back to the lazy, gentle brushing of lips.  
  
They must have been outside for a while, yet he didn't feel cold and he was surprised by the darkness that now had fallen when they distanced themselves from each other. Arya moved away, her face deeply red.  
"...Must go." She said and picked up the scabbard.  
Before he could say anything, she was hurrying away.  
  
  
                          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  
  
  
_Jon_  
  
He had just began to wonder where Arya might have gone when she appeared. Sansa and Rickon had been playing a game of cyvasse - which they said Arya had brought with her - while he and Bran had discussed the latest news from King's Landing. Other than Daenery's having a hard time making different kinds of people comfortable with each other, there wasn't much to talk about. After a conversation about the idea of strengthening relationships with the Tyrell's, which could work with Sansa's help, they had ran out of topics to talk about and Jon had found that Arya was nowhere to be seen. That was when she entered the room, face red and hair wild.  
"Where have you been, Arya?" He asked and stood up to pull out a chair beside him and offer it to his little sister.  
"Yes, Arya. Where?" Said Sansa, her voice all innocence, but her insinuation didn't go unnoticed.  
"Visiting a friend. It doesn't matter. Oh Jon, how long it's been!" Arya quickly brushed past the explaining part and took the seat offered to her.  
  
Arya wasn't as happy to share experiences as he was and didn't let him ask many questions of her whereabouts during the past seven years. But she listened closely to all his stories and time went quickly by. They had dinner and Sansa brought some wine afterwards and decided to join them. When Jon had finished telling them about the Others, Sansa exchanged topics.  
"That is a beautiful sword, Arya. Your friend gave it to you?"  
His little sister shot Sansa an incredulous look and Jon clearly saw her shake her head. That sparked his curiosity immediately.  
"What friend, Arya?" Jon said and took a long drink of wine.  
Instead of responding, she brought the sword out of its scabbard and Sansa ooh'd in admiration. Arya held it out to Jon and he took it, examining it closely.  
  
It wasn't a bad sword, not at all. Much like Needle, the sword he had gifted Arya with so long ago, this sword was made to fit her. It didn't weight much, which meant that - in the right hands - this would be a deadly fast sword. Unlike Needle, this sword was personalized further, adorned with their sigil. The pommel was like his own: a wolf, but this one was iron and even more carefully molded, with yellow stones for eyes. Whoever had gifted Arya with this sword wasn't just a friend.  
"Who is your friend?" He asked again, pausing after every word.  
"Gendry Waters. We travelled together with Yoren's group."  
"This man was being sent to the Wall?!" Growled Jon at once and turned to look at Sansa, expecting an equally disapproving look.  
"Not for being a criminal, Jon!" Her voice rose as well. "Cersei wanted him too, for whatever reason."  
"You never told me that." Sansa cut in and looked strangely at their sister.  
"Why would it matter? It was years ago."  
"It does matter because Cersei would never bother with..." Unexpectedly she fell silent and both Jon and Arya stared at her. "Excuse me, I only just now remembered something I had to do."  
Without further explanation, she excused herself and disappeared out the door.  
  
After some more questioning, Arya finally told him about Gendry Waters. When she had told him - according to her - everything there was to know, he decided to see the man for himself. Not because he didn't trust his sister, but because she was defending him so fiercely. Much like she would have defended himself. It put him in a very bad mood.  
  
  
  



	7. Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon Snow decides to see for himself who the man who gifts his sister so generously is.

_Arya_  
  
  
The first thing she saw as she woke up was the sword laying beside her. It had been almost impossible to sleep the night before, with her thoughts inspiring mischief. Could she have sneaked out and visited Gendry, at such late hour? Arya got up and dressed, this time she needn't sneak into Rickon's room because he had handed her over some clothes already. He'd grown tired of her visiting his room at all hours.  
  
With the sword on her hip, she made her way to the great hall to find her brothers discussing sending a manhunt after Lady Stoneheart. Set on ignoring that topic, she went to pet Ghost a bit before she searched for Sansa and found that her sister was nowhere to be seen.  
"Where is Sansa?" She asked, grabbing some cheese from the table and something to wash it down with.  
"With Maester Gormon, last I saw. Sending invitations, she said it was about time she invited Margaery Tyrell over." Bran said.  
"It would be better for Sansa to travel to Highgarden... She could visit King's Landing on the way and pay her respects to the queen and her nephew." Jon proposed.  
"Don't mention that, she'd rather loose her fingers than set foot there again. Besides, I did tell her that would be wiser, but she is set on inviting the Tyrell girl here. No can do."  
"This far up north, the Tyrell girl might be the one to loose her fingers from frostbite." Rickon laughed.  
Quickly losing interest in the matter, Arya left her brothers to their planning.  
  
Instead of going to the forge, which had been her original intention, Arya decided to dance a bit with her new sword. In the godswood she twirled and turned until she grew dizzy and sweaty. She laid down to rest. It was a beautiful day, albeit a bit too cold. As soon as she had stopped moving, the cold started seeping in and she decided that now was the time to visit the forge. There it was always hot.  
  
Her entrance went unnoticed, as the man working with Gendry sat honing some metal pieces and Gendry himself submerged lively red arrow-heads in water. For a while she sat and watched and after some time his eyes finally found her. They didn't exchange words, not even to greet each other, they weren't needed. But Arya started telling him about having gone to the godswood and how swiftly her new sword moved. That put a smile on his face, one that remained as she kept talking.  
  
When the man honing the metal left the room, Arya stood and walked closer to Gendry. She followed his movements, his hands handling iron over fire with expert skill.  
"My brothers are going after Lady Stoneheart." She said. "Did Brandon ask for your help?"  
His hands paused, then he laid down the tools he'd been holding and turned to her.  
"He did."  
"What did you tell him?"  
"That I would be much more useful if I stayed right where I am."  
Regardless if he meant it for her or the smithing, she felt relief spread in her chest. Closing the distance between them, she leaned her head on his chest. His body was warm and she succumbed to the sudden impulse to kiss his shoulder. When she did, he responded at once, his arm sneaking around her waist.  
"Your brothers will go after me next if you keep this up." He said in a low, rumbling voice, but his arm didn't move.  
"I have a sword now, I'll protect you." She said as she trailed kisses upward, as far as she could reach.  
"Arya..."  
Pausing at the sound of her name, she looked at him, really looked.  
"Kiss me." She commanded.  
Cupping her face in his hands, he obeyed and Arya sighed wistfully against his lips as he parted them to taste hers.  
  
Their moment was short-lived. From outside she heard someone call her name and Gendry's hands fell as he took a step back. Right now she wanted more, she wanted to drag him out to the godswood and kiss him and bite him, mark him so that everyone knew that he was hers and hers alone. But outside her name as called again and she willed her legs to move until she was by the door when it opened and Rickon entered.  
  
  
                          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  
  
  
_Gendry_  
  
  
It was not an easy thing, to deny her of something he was craving as badly as she. He could get lost in her grey eyes, that was his only thought before she ordered him to kiss her. But then he heard her name outside and he moved at once. How exactly do lords punish bastards that touch their sisters like he had?  
  
Lord Rickon had smirked at both of them before telling Arya that Lady Stark wished to see her. Gendry stood staring at the door when they had left, wondering what he was doing. Breathing slowly, he turned and picked up his tools. He heard the door open again, but he assumed it was only Darryn coming back to work and ignored it. But when the silence grew, as opposed to the noise Darryn would always make, he lowered his tools again and turned to see who had entered.  
  
Standing there was a man almost as tall as he was, all dressed in black with wavy, dark hair. Though they seemed to be the same age, there was an air around him inspiring respect and his dark eyes examined Gendry from head to toe. Without really knowing how exactly he knew, Gendry guessed it was Arya's brother standing in front of him: Jon Snow, Lord Commander of the Wall.  
"The sword you made Arya was very fine work." Lord Snow said.  
Gendry was suddenly seeing a memory from long ago. He remembered being in Tobho Mott's forge and being questioned by the King's Hand, Arya's father. The great beast that entered the forge after Lord Snow brought him back to the present in an instant. He stood his ground, but his eyes nervously followed its movements.  
"Smithing is what I am good at." He responded, eyes still on the white beast.  
"Honest men needn't fear Ghost." Lord Snow said. "I am Jon Snow. I hear you are a friend of Arya's."  
"Gendry Waters." He answered, dragging his eyes away from Ghost to look Lord Snow in the eye. "Arya and I travelled together from King's Landing."  
"What brought you here?"  
"The brotherhood without banners."  
"Why did you stay?"  
"I get paid well and I am good at what I do."  
Being questioned irritated him, but this was Arya's brother and he knew he shouldn't act stubbornly.  
"You didn't get paid for smithing the sword you gave Arya."  
"Neither were you."  
It seemed to surprise Lord Snow for a moment, the fact that Gendry knew about Needle. The stone-face he was wearing cracked, a hint of anger flashed through the cracks.  
"I am her brother, it was a gift."  
"A gift, my lord. You said it yourself."  
"What is your relationship with my sister?" Lord Snow asked, this time he didn't sound so calm.  
Gendry wasn't about to mention that the men of the Night's Watch didn't have families. Instead he decided to go for the truth.  
"We are friends."  
  
  
                          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  
  
  
_Jon_  
  
  
He couldn't read the man. Gendry Waters was just as guarded as Arya and he himself. All the answers he gave without pause, while his blue eyes looked straight into Jon's own.  
"She visits this forge daily, what business does she have in here?" Jon asked.  
Gendry shrugged.  
"She likes to watch us work."  
For a moment he simply watched the man. He was tall and very big, with muscled arms that could easily choke the life out of someone. His hair was black as coal and he stood as if ready for a fight. That at least he could respect, because Gendry Waters must have known he wouldn't stand a chance if Jon decided to unsheathe his sword on him. Instead of grabbing his sword, Jon pulled out a bag of coin and offered it to him. Gendry Waters looked questioningly at his outstretched hand.  
"For the sword. It is a very good sword."  
"I made it for Lady Arya, it was a gift."  
"Then see this as a gift in return."  
Jon saw Gendry's scowl turn to irritation and they stared each other down. Right when he began wondering if the stubborn man would ever give in, he heard the door open.  
  
Arya stormed in and she looked positively furious. Behind her, Sansa came running, telling her sister to stop. The second Arya saw the scene in front of her, she walked to stand in front of Gendry and pushed Jon's hand back to him.  
"What are you doing Jon?!" She demanded to know.  
"Paying the smith for a fine piece of work." He told his sister.  
"Gendry made me that sword and gave it to me. If he wanted money for it, he would have said so. Did he?"  
Jon closed his mouth and Sansa tried to say something.  
"-Well, did he?!" Arya said, raising her voice.  
"No." Jon said.  
"You of all people behaving like this, Jon..."  
Turning around she grabbed Gendry's hand and pulled him out of the forge before Jon and Sansa could even react.  
  
When he did react and started following, Sansa got in his way.  
"Jon, please. Arya is not a girl you need to protect anymore."  
"He is a smith-"  
"-Knighted by the brotherhood of men." She cut in.  
"...Which accounts to nothing. And he is a bastard!" He was simply too aware of it.  
"It doesn't matter, Arya does as she pleases. ...And she would never forgive you if you sent him away."  
He sighed, because that was true. All of it.  
"Arya deserves more than this." His voice sounded tired.  
"He makes her happy, Jon. I have seen it myself. Without him, Arya would leave us."  
"Is it much better if she remains and births bastards each year?"  
"Arya becoming a mother? Not likely. But yes, it is. Or would you wish for our sister to go away? Like Robb?"  
That put things in perspective. Anything would be better than that.  
"We have other matters to worry about, more pressing matters." Sansa said. "Like Lady Stoneheart."  
Jon nodded, finally seeing what Sansa was seeing, and followed when Sansa beckoned for them to return to the castle.  
  
  
                          *          *          *          *          *          *          *  
  
  
Arya  
  
  
"I am sorry." She told him when they were outside. "I don't know what got into him."  
They walked away, she led the way to the godswood and Gendry hadn't uttered a thing since they had walked out of the forge. They reached the weirwood tree and came to a halt, the night around them blurry due to the ponds. The longer he remained mute, the more she worried.  
"Say something." She asked and searched for his eyes.  
"Lords and ladies, Arya... What's a smith to a lord?" He said it with anger, but grew more hopeless by the word.  
"What's a lord to a king?" She answered, her hands reaching for his. "What's a king to the gods? And what are gods to those without faith? What does it matter, Gendry?"  
"It matters. In your castles you don't need to worry about hunger, with your maesters you don't need to fear sickness. And I don't think it's fair, at all, but I'd be happy to know you have that. You can't have that with me."  
"Don't need it. I can hunt, I am healthy and I don't need you to protect me." Her words were matter of fact, as Arya herself often was. "I used to dream of Winterfell, how it would be to come back. But even back then I imagined you'd stay. You already left me once. If you can't stand being here, then go. But I am coming with you."  
"Your brothers would hunt us down within a day, hang me and bring you right back."  
"They could try." She said and her eyes burned with defiance.  
  
Wordlessly they looked at each other and she hoped he knew that she meant every word. When he finally gave her a small smile, her heart lifted and the corners of her mouth curled as well.  
"For now let's stay. Hasty decisions are no good, besides... I rather like seeing you in those dresses of yours." He said and laughed when she slapped him on the arm.  



End file.
